The Time Constraints of Forever
by Dusha
Summary: Just because Ensign Kim wanted his letter so badly in 'Message in a Bottle' doesn't mean that all of it was good news.


_As always, danka to Emilia for kindly putting up with my Harry obsession, but I have to say, it's a two way street. Yeah, yeah, I know, you don't think he's cute but I do so there! If I get my TOS uniform costume ready by Halloween and you'll wear your NextGen one then I swear I'll wear it to school with you. That should make for an interesting English presentation on the Canterbury Tales…. Not that we don't have enough Star Trek/Captain references in the darn thing all ready. _

_As for everyone else(who probably didn't get that whole last paragraph, but let your imagination run with it) please review even if you think that it was stupid and/or I still want to know! Thanks!_

**The Time Constraints of Forever**

      She had promised herself she wouldn't think of him. Not him. Not today. Elizabeth Lattimore gazed thoughtfully at her reflection in the mirror, attempting to let the joy of the day that awaited her infuse her every being, forcing everything else away. She had been able to do it so many other times before that it had almost become habit. There were some times, though, in the darkest part of the night, when she felt the cold, intrepid hand of loneliness encircle her, and she thought of him.

      "Libby, honey, are you ready yet?" The voice of Libby's mother-in-law hailed her from outside the preparation room's door. Turning to face the direction from which her newest relative called, Libby answered calmly,

      "Almost. I want to make sure that everything is perfect." It was a lie, of course, but reservations had no room in this place. Turning back to face herself, Libby smoothed the front of her satin dress.

      It was plain, from many a contemporary standard, and absurdly out of fashion. She didn't care about fashion, one of the few ways she distinguished herself from the many other women on the planet she called home, and had settled on the most traditional wedding dress she could find. Dainty, white flowers adorned her auburn hair, accentuation the contrast of light and dark. The soft shimmer of the bodice brought a sense of a thousand white dwarf stars stuck, dying, on her dress just for this special occasion. The stars. She couldn't help but imagine what his response to her current apparel would be.

      "Libby," he'd gasp, his breath taken away just like the first time he had met her. "My God you look beautiful."

      Teasingly she would reply, "Oh Harry, you always say that no matter what I wear."

      "It's always true," he would murmur, closing the space between them. "I don't know what I did to deserve a radiant person like you Libby, but I'm glad I did it."

      Before she could carry the fantasy any further, Libby shook her head to clear the treasonous thoughts from her mind. Harry, whom she had loved for so long, was now dead. It was harsh, biting reality, but truth never lied. She had given up on him years ago. That was why she was in this room, with another kind man waiting for her, ready to change her name. Change it to something other than Kim.

      She had joked, early on while they were simply dating, that if they ever did get married she would have an interesting name.

      "Libby Kim. On official papers it will be Kim, Libby. You think people will be able to tell which one is right?"

      He had been staring at the darkening sky, a trait for which she had chastened him many times. Whenever she talked though, all other thoughts fled as he gave her his undivided attention. "You'd be known as Mrs. Harry Kim, too," he reasoned seriously. "People would know then."

      "So I'm going to forever be known as 'The Wife of Harry Kim.'? Sounds medieval to me." Libby raised her hands to put quotation marks around her title. "Why can't you be called Harry Lattimore?"

      The astounded look on his face had moved her to laugh. "I'm just kidding Harry."

      "I don't know about you, Libby. I'm more a traditionalist then you by a lot, but I'm sure we could work out something." 

      Moving to rest her head on his shoulder she noticed that, not only was he as sincere as he was when he profusely apologized for 'stealing' her seat, as he had put it, but he was looking at the velvet sky again. "Teach me some of the constellations, Harry."

      "All right," he pointed upward, guiding her searching eyes. "Over there is Cassiopeia, I think of her as the lady of the stars. Um…over there is Orion, you see the three stars there? Yeah, that's his belt. He was a brave hunter that Zeus gave the honor of being placed among the heavens…."

      The commotion out side her chamber's door alerted Libby that she had drifted off again. "I'm coming!" She yelled, partly for the benefit of those who waited for her and wholly for herself. 

      As she slipped into her matching white-polished shoes, the young woman couldn't help but think about how her fiancé had shaped her life, even after his death. Every day for years she would find herself doing something because she knew that 'it was what Harry would have wanted'. She couldn't help but wonder it she had been so insistent on finding a plain dress simply because of her remembered conversation.

      The man she was marrying this day had so many things in common with the man she tried so hard to forget. Perhaps that was what had brought the two together in the first place, other than mutual sorrow. His smile, his caring love, the way that he would always look at her in that special way that told her that, even if other women worried about their husband's faithfulness on starship missions, she wouldn't have to….

      "Libby, I don't want you to worry about me when I'm gone," he had ordered as he prepared to board a shuttle that would eventually bring him to Deep Space Nine and _Voyager_. "Please."

      She didn't have the heart to tell him that she was sure that he would be the one doing the majority of the worrying. Taking his hand in both of her's she whispered solemnly, "I don't know what to worry about. Harry, I know you'll come home, and then we'll get married just like we planned." 

      Taking one of her hands away, she reached into her pocket, pulling out a simple gold band. It matched the one on his finger. She could hear his gasp of dismay at her actions, but quickly explained herself. 

      "Don't be mad, Harry. I want-" She began again. "When you get back I want you to put this ring on me and then we'll get married a few weeks later after planning everything, and you won't have to worry about anything but your mission until then. That's all you need to worry about." Her eyes begged for understanding.

      "You know I'm going to worry about you Libby," he admitted shyly, just like she had known he would. She really could anticipate his every move, a perfect attribute for a wife. The way his eyes suddenly became downcast when he divulged a secret to her, even if she had already known it, was always a source of joy to her. He looked so innocent and pure when he looked the way he did right now. "I love you too much."

      Those were the words she longed to hear every day. The same words that she knew some people said so off-handedly but which Harry said with such unflinching conviction. "I know you do, Harry. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't know that you loved me just as much as I do you."

      She had been so leery, earlier, that she wouldn't know what to say if he ever asked for her. When he got down on his knee though, and gallantly implored for her to consider him to be her husband there was no way she could have said no. She loved him too much. 

      Times had changed now, lies had been told, and that was nothing but a dim memory that tormented her occasionally. She had stood there, waving to him as if bidding him goodbye on a cruise. 

      It was a testament to her strength that her eyes didn't even tear anymore. It might have ruined her makeup anyway. That was another thing Harry insisted she never needed. With calm composure she went to her purse and pulled something out of a pocket there. 

      The ring was as perfect as it had been the day he had given it to her. Unblemished and untainted, just as she now remembered him. It caught the light that spilled unheeded through the picture window and glinted softly. She had never worn the ring, the one that she was sure Harry had died wearing. It was time to let go, she told herself, high time. 

      "I'm sorry Harry," she whispered, sorrow catching in her voice. She hadn't cried for him in years, and she wasn't about to start now on the eve of her new life. Opening the window as carefully as she could, she stood at near perfect attention as she lifted the ring. "I really am." The ring sailed through the air, quickly lost in the lush grass. Grass that reminded her of that star-studded night so long ago. 

      No. There were other nights, with her husband, which would replace that one now. The name of Harry Kim would be nothing but a cue for her to drop her head and look sad or reminiscent depending on her mood. 

      "I'm coming Danny!" She yelled through the door, dismissing any lingering thoughts. 

      "Wedding day jitters," Mrs. Byrd acknowledged sympathetically. Libby guiltily nodded as the moved through the grandiose hallway to the chapel.

***

Janeway found him standing out her favorite viewport. It was the dead of night, and she had expected to encounter nothing but the stars and a stolen cup off coffee granted to her by B'Elanna's ability to usurp the doctor's nutritional orders given to the replicator system. 

"Harry, what are you doing here?" The question seemed obvious enough, but even in the semi-darkness she could see the surprised embarrassment on his face. He must not have heard her come in. Coming to stand beside him, she noticed the one hand he kept in a tight fist behind his back.

"Nothing, Captain," he responded automatically. The lack of emotion immediately alerted Janeway to a problem, her dormant maternal instincts noticing the catch in his voice. There was no way she could go to sleep if she knew there was a something amiss on her ship.

      Picking a neutral subject that she would easily be able to manipulate she commented, "I come here often to think. It's wonderful to lose yourself in the stars and your problems in the grandness of the universe."

      Turning to look at the stars, Harry couldn't help but let a small sigh escape. "Yes ma'am," he replied distractedly. 

      Janeway, of all people, knew the merits of being left alone to sort out one's problems, but her instincts rankled at her that this was not one of those times. She had made a promise, years ago, that she would learn as much as she could about her crew. She had done as much as she dared, and in doing so made a family out of two hostile factions. Now, though, she saw much the same young boy that she had made the initial promise to. 

      Throwing caution to the wind, she asked, "Is there anything I can do, Harry?"

      "No." The answer was definite, but a non-vocal admission of a different kind followed. Turning back to her he stared into her eyes, and Janeway was surprised to see tears in his eyes. As he held her gaze, she felt herself drawn to stand beside him. 

Avoiding the mess hall table that separated the two, she noticed a hard copy of some communiqué like a ghost lying upon the table. Curiosity grabbed her, and she stole a furtive glance as what was written there. When Harry didn't move to impede her movements, or hide what was printed on the paper, she took the liberty to pick up the paper and read it. As she did, the young Ops officer turned back to the stars with incriminating haste.

_Dear Harry,_

_      I find myself unable to believe that you really will receive this letter, having been convinced that I would never see you again. Hearing that _Voyager_ is alive and well, for the most part, was one of the happiest moments of my life. I have to admit, though, Harry, that it was also one of the ones that I dreaded the most. You of all people know that I'm not one to beat around the bush, and I'm not going to lie to you. Danny and I got married. I hope that you will understand._

                                                            Libby 

      "I feel so petty." The small voice startled Janeway from her own memories of Mark, and the parallel letter that she had received from him in the frantically captured transmission of earlier that day. 

      Petty wasn't one of the words that she expected him to say. Upset, crushed, betrayed: they all readily came to mind because she had been feeling the exact same things. "You have no reason to fell petty, Harry. You didn't do anything wrong."

      "Every time that I thought about her I always wished that she was happy. That if she found someone else that they would be happy together because by the time I got home I would be so different-I wouldn't be the same person she fell in love with. I've changed too much," he said, as if it was a crime on his part.

      Voice caught in her throat, Janeway wasn't sure what to say. Long ago she had resigned herself to the same fate, and a part of her knew that she could empathize with her Ensign more then he would ever know. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if Kim would rather one of his closer friends be with him: Tom Paris or B'Elanna Torres. She knew that both of them went to him when they felt insecure or unaccepted, though neither would admit their private motives. They would jump at the chance to repay the debt that they felt they owed to the openhearted young man, but they weren't here now. She was.

      "It's only natural for you to feel this way when you lose a loved one." Even to her, Janeway's voice sounded hollow and lacked the conviction she wanted to impart.

      "That doesn't change anything," Harry responded stubbornly. The captain had seen this type of single-mindedness in him before, and it had served him well in being a Starfleet officer. Now, though, the focus that had allowed him to work on complex engineering problems for hours and days at a time without hiatus showed its darker side. 

      Coming to stand beside him, hoping that her very presence would be reassuring, Janeway dropped a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know it doesn't. You've got to trust me, Ensign. It hurts now, but it will get better."

      Not that the pain would ever leave his mind, but Janeway was sure that she didn't need to tell him that. It would simply recede into the background, the foreground colored with new images. Janeway knew that for the next few weeks she would do everything she could to make sure those pictures were of bright, radiant moments that he would want to cherish.

Breaking her train of thought, Janeway's gaze caught Kim slowly fidgeting with indecision. Without turning to look at her Harry took the hand he had held behind his back to chest level, the silver light of the stars painting incongruous shadows on his face. Cautiously he uncurled his fingers and on his palm laid a simple, gold ring. 

      "Harry…." Janeway immediately grasped the meaning of the ring. She didn't know that he still had it, hadn't even known that he had gone to the trouble of acquiring engagement ring to begin with. As the concept of marriage had become more liberal, many people had opted against getting open declarations of their love, preferring the silent commitments of their hearts and feeling that the public's acknowledgement of a couple's status irrelevant. He must have taken it off in the first weeks of their voyage. She had been so busy integrating the two crews together to take notice of whether he wore a wedding band or not, and by the time she would have realized it the ring was packed safely away. Janeway now felt that her lack of observation was an egregious mistake on her part.

      "She never put her's on," he confessed softly, painfully. He stared out the window, believing that if he stared long and hard enough he would be able to see his Libby back on Earth. 

      Squeezing his shoulder in silent sympathy, Janeway could feel her youngest bridge crewmember begin to tremble with pent-up emotions. "I know how it feels," she consoled. To a limited degree, she did.

      They would never speak of it after that night, nor did they need to. His tears had been cathartic for both of them. He had never felt that he would ever be that close, like mother and son, with his Captain, but it only cemented his inward promise that he would do anything for her. She too reaffirmed a promise. 

      She would get them home; get him home to see his loved ones-even his ex-fiancé, no matter what it took. The wealth of love she had felt infusing her heart came in the moment she had taken the ring from him, afraid he might drop it in his sorrow. Holding him as he cried, she had been able to read the inscription on the inside of the ring, circling the perimeter, over his shoulder.

_      Ex astris, amor._

_      Harry Kim_


End file.
